


How To Make Mark Beg

by Gildedmuse



Category: Rent (2005), Rent - Larson
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Maureen The Drama Queen, New Year's Resolutions, One Shot, Oral Fixation, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Past Mark/Maureen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Referenced Mark/OFC, Referenced Roger/Mimi, Secret Crush, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedmuse/pseuds/Gildedmuse
Summary: This is all Maureen's fault for putting images in Roger's head.





	How To Make Mark Beg

**Author's Note:**

> [Posted in LJ in 2005 with the note "Three different sex scenes, one of which involves bondage. Usually I disagree with fanfiction that don’t take their time in explaining why two characters are suddenly going at it. Sometimes, though, a girl just needs some hot sex, no questions asked. That is what I want to give to you guys."]

**How To Make Mark Beg**

"He really has this thing with sucking."

Roger groans and buries his hands in his hair so that he can hide the blush in his cheeks, and digs his fingernails into his scalp. The pain helps fight the humiliation and curiosity.

"Do I really need to hear this?" It's just after ten o'clock and Mark isn't back yet. He's been gone all day, out on a date with one of Mimi's new friends. She's working at the Life Café now. Apparently, one of the waitresses is "prefect" for him. Mark has always had trouble saying no to people.

Roger hadn't really cared one way or another about Mark's date. He knows it will never amount to anything. There aren't too many people out there that can handle Mark's obsession with his work, and most girls hated the competition. Roger could deal with Mark going out on a few dates.

It really hadn't been that bad until Maureen stopped by. Now Roger is stuck hearing all about everything her and Mark when they were together.

Maureen rolls her eyes, shooting Roger a nasty look. "You don't have to listen," she points out. Roger could have gone to his room, or maybe just left the loft all together. Still, there is something a little to tempting about the situation. He shouldn't want to hear about Mark's past relationship, but he can't help it. Some morbid sense of curiosity forces him to stick around.

He can't tell the girls this, so he just shakes his head. "Whatever." He strums a few chords out on his old Fender guitar as if to prove he has more important things to do then hear about Mark in bed.

Mimi and Maureen watch him for a while, waiting for Roger to get up and leave. When he doesn't, Maureen goes back to her story. "So, yeah, sucking."

Mimi gives Maureen a confused look, tucking her feet under her as she snuggles further under the blanket that had been spread out over the couch. It reminds Roger of his sister's sleepovers, where the girls sat around and gossiped until mom told them to go to sleep. "I think that's every guy," Mimi says. Roger misses the next note when he ends up thinking about Mimi and other men.

Maureen laughs. "Not like Mark," she explains. "Mark, he really had this thing with sucking. I mean, he use to play with my lips and my ears and my fingers. Anything he could get in his mouth. That boy has an oral obsession."

Mimi laughs, the kind where she tosses her head back and makes Roger want to kiss her. "Linda should love that," she says.

Maureen rolls her eyes. "Yeah, it's all fun the first few weeks. After that you start to wonder." On cue, both girls giggled. "After we got past that, though, I talked him into some of the best little games."

Roger shivers when he's forced to imagine Maureen tied to a bed. That's an image he's going to have to burn out of his brain later. He looks sideways at Mimi, who returns the shy glance with a wink. Roger turns back at his guitar, but he's can't keep the smile off his face. "I never took Mark as the type," Mimi says.

"Oh, Mark. He loved being tied up."

Roger chokes on air, dropping his guitar as the coughing fit hits him. When he manages to open his eyes and is able to breathe he sees the girls have turned around on the couch and are staring at him. "Mark liked what?"

Maureen rolls her eyes again. This seems to be her new favorite expression when it comes to talking with Roger. "Come on, Roger. I mean Mark is about as dominate as a puppy."

Mimi laughs, but Roger doesn't find it at all funny. Here they are, causally talking about Mark's private life like it's no big deal. Maybe Mark didn't want every one to know about his sex life. He'd never told Roger any of this, and Mark tells him everything. That's how it works.

Maureen notices Roger's scowl. She fakes a pout. "What's wrong, Roger?"

"I don't know," Roger's voice is dripping with so much sarcasm not even Maureen could have missed it. "Maybe you should be thinking about Mark. I mean, did you ever think he might not want everyone to know what you two did?"

Maureen shrugs. Apparently, the thought had never crossed her mind. "It's old news," she says. "Besides, I'll bet Linda is already figuring all this out for herself." She laughs again. Mimi doesn't join her. She's watching Roger like she's afraid he's going to explode.

He doesn't, but he does hop off the table, pick up his guitar and stalk off towards his room. "I can't believe you."

Maureen's frown isn't pretend this time. She yells at Roger's back, "What's wrong? Jealous?"

Roger slams the door as hard as he can.

Maureen has no idea what she's going on about, Roger thinks, setting his guitar aside and throwing himself down onto the mattress. Roger couldn't care less about what Mark does in his private life, and if Mark chooses not to share it with him that's fine. What gave Maureen the right to go broadcasting it like that? All she did was date him for a while. Roger is so much more to Mark then she'll ever be. Just because Maureen knows a few things about him that Roger didn't, that doesn't mean anything.

The door is cracked open and Mimi's pops her head in. "Me and Maureen are going to lunch."

Roger rolls away on his side. "Fine."

He can't see Mimi, but he can picture her frown and furrowed brow. It's that look she gets when she's trying to figure Roger out. "She didn't mean-"

"I don't care, Mimi," Roger snaps. He knows Maureen didn't mean what she said. Maureen hardly ever means anything that comes out of her mouth. Case and point, with all those promises she made Mark before she left him.

"Honestly, Roger." Mimi sighs, and Roger knows he's starting to push his luck. Well, if Mimi had never set Mark up on that date he wouldn't have had to listen to Maureen. "So Mark has a life without you. Get over it."

Roger sits up in a flash, twisting his body to look back at Mimi. "That's not-"

"Whatever." Mimi rolls her eyes, and Roger has the urge to strangle Maureen. "We'll be back in a bit."

Before Roger can make a decent protest, Mimi has already shut the door. "Fine!" He yells after her, but the sound of the front door being closed tells him it's useless. The girls are already gone.

Roger flops back on his bed, hands tangled in his hair. What is with him? So Mark has one date, that doesn't mean anything. So maybe Roger has grown use to always having his best friend around. He went through six months of withdraw! He hadn't left the loft for a year after April died! Of course he needed Mark around for some of that.

Besides, who would react well to hearing about their best friend's sex life? It isn't like Roger asked for that. One minute he's playing his guitar and seconds later he's imaging Mark pressed against Maureen and licking at her ear, Mark tied to a bed post, Mark with two fingers in his mouth and his cheeks hollowed out.

Roger shivers. It's not like he wants those images.

He's probably doing those things right now. Roger moans, tossing and arm over his eyes as if to blind himself. Look what Maureen's done. Put ideas in his head. Pictures of a faceless girl pressed against Mark, straddling Mark's hips. This Linda girl with her tongue shoved in Mark's mouth and her hands down his pants.

Like she knows anything about Mark. Like she has any right to be with him, even if it's just in Roger's imagination.

"Damn it." Mimi isn't right about him. He doesn't care if Mark spends time with other people. Hell, it's not like he owns Mark.

Maureen's voice is back in his head again, remained Roger that Mark likes that kind of thing. Giving Roger clear pictures of Mark handcuffed to the bedpost, legs pushed apart and the head of his cock gleaming against his flushed skin. Mark with his eyes closed, his head titled back so that Roger could watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he tries to swallow.

The Mark in Roger's imagination is wanton and begging. He's tugging at his binds, trying to free himself but not really wanting out. There's a hand stroking down his cheek. Roger is cupping his friend's cheek, pressing his mouth against Mark's and whispering calming words. It only makes sense. Maureen dumped him, and this Linda girl isn't going to last. Someone Mark trusts should be there when he's so helpless. Besides, it's Roger's imagination and he'll do what he wants.

He wants to run a hand down Mark's chest, fingers pinching at the hard nubs. Mark arches against him, choking on Roger's name. Against his lips, Roger says, "You want this, Mark." His hand continues lower, taking its sweet time at exploring the hot skin beneath it.

Mark is fighting against the handcuffs. He's whole body is shaking as he pushes up into Roger's touch, trying to guide the hand where he needs it. "Please."

Roger laughs, low in his throat so that the sound rumbles through the two bodies and leaves Mark groaning. "You're such a slut." Roger's hand runs across his inner thigh. Mark's whimpers are intoxicating, his lips trembling as he moves his hips in small circles, desperate for more contact. "Look at you, legs spread open, begging me to fuck you."

Mark keeps squirming, those wanton sounds still being pulled from his throat as Roger's hand brushes against the soft, pale skin of his legs. "Please, Roger." He begs, moving against Roger like he's never needed anything this much in his entire life. It's a good look for him.

He places a row of kisses on Mark's neck. His hand dips between Mark's legs, fingers brushing over his entrance. Mark yelps and pushes back against Roger's hand for more. Roger chuckles, licking Mark's ear before whispering, "God, you such a beautiful slut."

Roger is lying back on his bed, jeans unbuttoned and pushed down over his waist. He's thrusting into his hand, pulse and mind racing at the idea of Mark with his hands tied together.

Mark is no longer chained to the bed. He's in the center of Roger's mattress on his knees with his thighs spread apart. His hands are twisted behind him. He keeps looking over his shoulder, want and need shining through those bright blue eyes of his.

Roger runs a finger down Mark's spin, making the smaller boy shiver and whine. He presses his body up against Mark's back, his other arm circling around his waist to hold them together. When he moves, rubbing his hot, eager cock up and down sweat slick skin, Mark tosses his head back against Roger's shoulder, eyes shut tight and lips parted as he struggles for air. Roger brushes his fingers against Mark's neck, feeling the racing pulse just bellow the surface.

"God, you're beautiful." It's all Roger can think to say before he leans in, licking at the beat under the skin. He nibbles at Mark's neck, still moving their bodies together. "I want you so much."

No, that's not right. It should be Mark begging for him. His mind backtracks, and now it's Mark pushing against Roger. "Please," his voice is raw and torn. In the back of Roger's head, he knows this has been going on for hours. These games him and Mark play. Mark's voice is hoarse and needy after having begged for Roger for so long. "Need you, Roger. Please. Need you."

Roger's hand leaves Mark's throat to dip down between their bodies. He places a leg between Mark's thighs, nudging them further apart as his fingers tease Mark's hole. "You're going to be so tight, aren't you?"

"Yes." Mark's head is against Roger's shoulders. His lips are swollen and dark, so tender he flinches when he licks them.

Two of Roger's fingers plunge into Mark, causing the other boy to bite down on his bruised lip to keep from screaming. "You're so ready, aren't you Mark? God, I can almost feel you around me."

Mark is more than willing to press back against Roger's fingers. He's breathing is so uneven it almost sounds like he sobbing. "I'm going to make you scream, Mark. I'm going to fuck you until you pass out. You're going to be mine."

"Yes," Mark tightening around Roger's fingers as he slips them out, whimpering at the lack of contact and Roger knows he could make Mark beg for him. Could make him come by just talking to him. "God, yes, Roger."

Another scene change, and Mark isn't tied up. He's on his hands and knees, with Roger's nails digging into his hips. It's hot and fast with the air filled with the sex and moans and sobs as Roger pounds into his friends, one hand slipping under Mark to fist his erection.

Roger knows his hand isn't a fair substitute to how good it would feel inside Mark, pumping into him as Mark chokes on his name, crying out nonsense as he urges Roger harder, faster, more. He's so close if Roger would just let him come.

"Roger!"

Shit.

Roger's hand is out of his pants. He goes completely still in his bed, listening as the front door closes. "Roger, are you here?"

"Fuck off, Mark." Roger hops out of bed, pulling his jeans up over his hard-on. He winces as the martial brushes the sensitive skin.

Shit. Mark. What had Roger been thinking? This is all Maureen's fault, putting images in his head of Mark like that. Roger had never thought about it before. Hell, as far as he had been concerned, Mark could have been asexual or a virgin or something like that.

Roger closes his eyes, biting down on his tongue. The last thing he needed to think about is Mark as a virgin. He should be imagining dead cats or overflowing toilets or cockroaches crawling through his cereal.

Without so much as knocking, Mark throws open Roger's bedroom door. "There you are!" He's smiling, his cheeks flushed from the outside chill. He starts taking off his jacket, almost pulling off his sweater as well.

Roger watches as the red shirt is pulled up to reveal a line of yellow hairs disappearing bellow Mark's pants. His problem is not going away anytime soon, no matter what he pictures.

He's best chance is to get Mark out of his room until he can finish up, but his best friend is already sitting down on the edge of his bed. If only Mark knew what Roger had been doing before he got there. He wouldn't be so anxious to hang around.

"Where is Mimi?" Mark asks, slipping off his gloves that only have three random fingers. Roger can imagine peeling off way more than that, pushing Mark against the bed, making Mark scream for him.

"Roger?" Mark turns to look at Roger, fixing him with a worried stare. "You okay?"

Roger shakes his head, trying to get rid of all his thoughts about Mark. It's harder to do with the boy sitting right there. "Yeah, fine."

"Where's Mimi?" Mark repeats. He doesn't look like he believes Roger.

Roger shrugs. "Her and Maureen went out to lunch."

"Maureen was here?" Mark looks surprised. "Why?"

"Yeah..." Roger tries to remember why Maureen had shown up originally. It had something to do with Mark's camera, he thinks, but he can't think of any specifics. It hadn't taken long for Mimi to announce that Mark was away on a date. "She and Mimi, they had this big discussion about your sex life." Roger rolls his eyes and snorts, making sure Mark knows that he would never be even the least bit interested in talking about Mark and sex.

Maybe he's pushing because he wants to be right about Mark not wanting every one to know what Maureen had been sharing with them. Maybe he wants Mark a little angry with Maureen. "Had some interesting things to say." Roger smiles, leaning forward so that he can see Mark's expression.

Roger expects Mark to look annoyed or, more likely, embarrassed or maybe to just laugh it off. Mark is definitely blushing, but instead of humiliated he looks frightened. "She told you guys about that?"

Roger has to fight to keep a smile off his face. He knew Mark wasn't going to like it when he found out what Maureen had done. "I told her you-"

Mark cuts him off with a moan. The filmmaker buries his face in his hands, muttering, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Roger." Roger isn't sure what to do. He hadn't been expecting an apology. He isn't even sure what Mark is sorry for. "I mean, it was just that once, I promise. And she made me do it, I didn't even want too! And she said it would be fun to role play and, well, I didn't expect..." Mark moans against the palm of his hands.

"Look, Mark its no big deal," Roger says. Mark's head nearly shots out of his hands. He looks so hopeful that no matter how big a deal it might have been Roger would have lied. "Me and Mimi do it all the time. And, okay, I'm usually the one tying her up, but-"

Mark tilts his head to the side, his brow furrowing in question. "You tie up Mimi?"

Roger rolls his eyes. "Of course." You didn't get a girlfriend from the Cat Scratch Club and just waste the opportunity. Still, Mark looks shocked.

"You tie up Mimi?" He repeats. The look of panic starts to fade away. "Like... Like Maureen and I and... Oh, God." Mark starts laughing. An almost hysterical, relieved laugh. Roger raises and eyebrow, waiting for Mark to catch his breathe.

Mark ends up cutting himself off only when he begins hiccupping. "Maureen told you she tied me up?" Mark falls back onto bed, holding his stomach as he continued to laugh uncontrollably. Mark is stretched out on his bed, his shirt scrunched up enough to reveal that same line of hair.

Roger knows he shouldn't, but he can't help himself. It can't hurt to touch a little. It's not like anything is going to happen.

Roger brings a hand down on Mark's knee. "You'll get over it," he promises. His leans back, his hand dragging up Mark's leg. It could be accidental, he figures. It's not like he's even touching anything. Just resting his hand on top of Mark's thigh. Nothing weird about that.

Only Roger's fingers are begging to go higher, to get rid of these annoying jeans, to tease some of the skin until Mark is begging and squirming and needs Roger so bad.

Before he can think about it, Roger asks, "So you didn't like it, then?"

Mark seems to be pulled from a daze. "Like what?" He asks. His lips are way to dry, Roger thinks. It would be easy to just lean over and lick them for him.

"Being tied up," Roger answers. "You said it was only once."

"Oh." A blush starts to return to Mark's face. "Oh... I... Um... I guess I did."

Roger ignores the way his pulse picks up. "Really?" It would have helped if he didn't sound like an over anxious teenage virgin right then.

Mark leans a little closer, opening his mouth to reply and it would be so easy to just -

"Mark?"

Roger pulls his hand away from his friend. Mark shots up, almost jumping out of the bed. "That's Linda," he explained.

From the main room of the loft a voice says, "Mark, you there?"

"Just a second!" Mark calls back. He turns back to Roger, smiling and offering a sort of half shrug. "She wanted to talk with Mimi."

"Right." Mimi. Linda. What the hell had Roger been thinking? He sits up in bed, brushing off his pants, mainly so he won't have to look at Mark. "She's out."

"Yeah." Mark runs a hand through his hair. It's too short to make much of a mess. "Yeah. I guess I better go..." He smiles at Roger again, before hurrying out to take care of Linda.

Roger falls back onto the mattress and groans. That's the last time he'll be doing anything that stupid.

*

It shouldn't be so easy.

Roger yawns, almost falling into the shower. His body aches and there is a pounding in his skull that won't go away. A week ago, Roger would still be curled up next to Mimi, naked and content. Now all he can think about it getting rid of this damn hang over.

Mark is still dating that Linda girl. They seem happy. At least Mark seems happy whenever he talks about her. Roger hasn't really meant her yet. He's made a point of avoiding her at all costs. Even if meant going to a bar every time she is about to come over and getting so trashed it takes Collins and Mark to get him back to the loft.

They both assumed this is about the fight Mimi and Roger had that afternoon. Neither seems to pick up on the way she's started glaring at Mark as well.

It shouldn't be so easy to think of Mark every time Roger's in bed. Maureen has screwed with his mind. Roger can't lie down any more without images of Mark filling his imagination. It's like the first time you figure out what masturbation is, and all you want to do is lock yourself in your room and jerk off. Only, it's as if Roger has just figured out who Mark is, and all he wants to do is lock Mark to a headboard and make him scream.

Roger turns the water on as hot as he can get it. The water barely scorches his skin. What he really needs is to breath in that steam, to get his head cleared of this alcoholic haze. To figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It's not like Roger has never done anything with a guy before. Him and Devon, they use to help each other out, and it was no big deal. This is different, though. This is Mark. His best friend, Mark. The one who stuck around through the addiction and the withdraw and the diseases. That Mark. Roger has always loved Mark in that older brother sort of way. It's about family when it comes to Mark. Roger doesn't need to be ruining that.

So it shouldn't be so easy to get in the habit of showering every damn day, just so he can have some time alone. He just needs to get this out of his system. It's not like he's obsesses with Mark or anything.

There's a perfectly good reason why he's standing in the shower, hand wrapped around his morning erection, leaning against the cold title of the walls. He just needs to work through all these fantasies involving Mark, and then he can go back to being blissfully ignorant of his friend's sex life.

Today Mark is on his knees, right there in the shower. His skin is pink from the heat, his blond hair plastered down against his face. His cheeks are hollowed out, his lips forming a tight circle around Roger's cock. It's hot and wet, and Mark is all to eager. Roger's fingers are twisted into his hair, pushing in and out of Mark's mouth.

Roger reaches behind him, grabbing onto the showerhead to help support his weight. He's pumping into his hand, to fast too last much longer. Especially not with Mark in his head, whimpering around Roger's erection.

Now Mark is being pushed against the shower wall, gasping against the cool title. "Please, Roger." He spreads his legs further apart, silently begging for Roger to thrust into him, for Roger to complete him.

Roger steadies himself against the wall with one hand. His other is wrapped around his own cock, pushing himself right up to Mark's back. Mark can feel the pumping, the way Roger is moving against him but not in him. It drives him insane. Small whimpers and whines are pulled from his throat, and it's all Roger can do not to come right then.

He bites down on Mark's ear, and the smaller boy jerks back against him, moaning for contact. "I love it when you beg," Roger tells him. At this point it's no secret to his imagination. Mark tied to the bedpost. Mark with his hands cuffed behind him. Mark on the floor, legs spread out and stroking himself as Roger watches, pleading with Roger to let him come.

Roger's picks up speed. Mark with his legs wrapped around Roger, being pushed up against the wall as Roger thrusts into him hard enough that every moan is mixed with a sob. Mark with his nails digging into Roger's back, head tossed back as he fights for his voice. It's all hot and harder and more please, yes, more, faster, please, yes.

Roger bites down on his lip to keep from screaming when he comes. He drops to the floor of the shower, the now cool water washing away the mess on his stomach as Roger works to catch his breath.

It's not like he really wants Mark all that much, Roger figures. He just needs to get these images out of his head.

*

"To being single!"

Mark and Roger raise their glasses in a toast, spilling most of the beer over their clothes. Roger laughs as Mark tries to catch the sloshing liquid before just giving up and drowning half his drink.

It's been two weeks since Linda broke it off with Mark. In Roger's opinion it took way longer than it should have.

It's been a few months since Mimi left, just packed all her bags and didn't even bother to leave a note. Everyone saw it coming, what with their constant fights and the way they'd stopped seeing each other for anything but sex. Still, Roger had locked himself inside his room the day after it happened and refused to come out until Mark nearly kicked down the door.

"To the loft!" Roger says, using his foot to nudge open the door to their apartment. Mark echoes him, taking another drink. The boys have their arms around each other's shoulders, trying to keep each other steady on the walk back from Joanne's. It's the drunk leading the drunk.

"To music and film!" Mark cheers, leaning most of his weight against Roger as he tries to touch their cups together. Roger laughs, moving the drink out of his friend's way. "And to the life boheme!"

"To boheme!" Roger and Mark both finish off the last of the beer they'd stolen from Joanne for the trip home. It's New Years, and the gang had all gone to girl's place to celebrate. Joanne and Maureen and Collins with his new boyfriend, and a few of Maureen and Joanne's friends Roger didn't know. Even some of the people from Mark's latest film project, who made sure to keep Mark from Roger nearly all evening.

Roger laughs, spraying most of the beer in his mouth onto the floor. Mark pouts and asks, "What?"

"You missed some, there." Roger points to the line of beer creeping down Mark's chin. Mark smiles, whipping his palm across his face.

"Such a good friend," He chuckles. The two boys are now back in their loft, but are still hanging off one another. Some how, they manage to make it to Roger's room without tripping over anything.

Roger falls back onto his bed. With his arm still around Mark's shoulder, the smaller boy ends up falling back as well. "What's your New Year's Resolution?" He asks, still laughing as he struggles to pull away. Roger has both hands wrapped around Mark's middle now, his fingers pressing into his friend's sides. Mark keeps squirming, unable to fight Roger's attack off and breath at the same time.

Mark gets a good kick to Roger's shin, and Roger lets the boy go, laughing as Mark rolls to the side and nearly chokes himself on his scarf. The other boy growls and pulls the worn fabric out from under Roger. Roger pushes himself up the bed, propping his back against the wall. Both boys are panting, but Roger's shortness of breath has nothing to do with laughing too hard.

Mark is on his hands and knees, smiling up at Roger from the bottom of the bed. His face is pink from the chill outside and his breathing uneven from being tickled. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Roger's resolution is to get over this thing with Mark.

Mark sits back on his knees. He unwinds his scarf from around his neck and pulls off his coat, tossing it to the floor. "So. What is it?"

It's hard for Roger to keep track of a conversation with Mark right there, stripping out of his clothes. He swallows, making sure his voice isn't going to give him away when he speaks. "What's what?"

Mark looks up at Roger, rolling his eyes. "Your resolution."

It's to stop jerking off in the shower while imaging Mark spread out on his bed.

"I don't have one." He smiles, opening his arms to present himself. "I'm prefect just the way I am."

Mark snorts. He balls up his scarf and throws it at Roger. Roger laughs as the black and white fabric falls onto his lap. "Come on, Roger. You have to have something."

Roger's new years resolution is to stop watching Mark's lips every time he talks, this throat every time he swallows, his hands every time they move.

Roger shrugs. He brings his legs up against his chest, turning to look at his guitar in the corner. He's hoping Mark can't see the effects just thinking about all the things Roger isn't going to be doing this year is having on him. "I don't know... Write some songs. Sell an album. Get a girlfriend."

Roger looks back to his friend, cocking an eyebrow. "So, what are yours?"

Now it's Mark's turn to start blushing. "It's not really important," Mark says. His hands are fidgeting as he pulls of his gloves. "I mean, I don't think I'll go through with it."

Roger reaches forward, knocking his friend in the shoulder. Mark laughs and falls backward onto his ass. "Come on, I told you mine. Fess up, Marky.

"Yours doesn't count. That's the same thing you say. It's like saying you plan on breathing some time this year." Mark has a point, but Roger isn't about to just give up.

He jumps forwards, and before Mark has time to yelp his wrist are pinned to the bed, Roger's hand working under Mark's shirt to tickle his overly sensitive sides. "Come on, Marky. What is it?" Under him, Mark is kicking and gasping for air, struggling to get his hands free from Roger.

"Roger that's-" Mark's words are jumbled by laughter and as many shallow breaths as he can manage to take. "Roger you're... Come on... Okay!"

Roger stops, hands landing on either side of Mark's face. He smiles down at his friend, who has turned almost completely pink and breathing so hard Roger can feel the air being sucked out from between them. "Okay what?" He asks.

Mark shakes his head, pushing against Roger's chest to give himself from room. Laughing, Roger obeys and slides away from Mark. "You cheated!" Mark accuses the second he has his voice back.

"It can't be that bad," Roger says. It can't be half as bad as Roger's resolution, which he's already ripped to shreds in less than a night.

Mark's already flushed face hides his embracement, but his shy smile and shaking hands give him away. "Remember, Collins made me agree to this." Roger raises an eyebrow. "So it's all his fault." Mark sighs, looking down at the mattress where his hands are busy picking at the threadbare covers. "It's probably best to do this when we're both drunk, right?"

"I'm not-"

Roger doesn't have time to finish his thought, because his mind has pretty much shut down. Mark leans across the bed, grabbing Roger by the back of the neck and kissing him. Not a gentle, easy sort of kiss you might give your friends. Not a nervous first kiss. A hard, demanding, fuck me now sort of kiss. It Roger hadn't already been hard from their wrestling match this would have done it.

Mark pulls back and Roger's brain starts functioning again. The only coherent thought he can manage is fuck resolutions.

Mark smiles and says, "There, that wasn't so hard." Roger has to disagree. "Now all you have to do is write some songs, sell an album, and get a girlfriend and we'll be even."

Roger should say something. He should point out that they're best friends and roommates. He should tell Mark that the one time he's even done it with a guy it meant nothing, and Mark shouldn't mean nothing. He should ask if Mark still has any of the toys him and Maureen used lying around.

Instead, Roger somehow manages to laugh. "Stop messing around, Mark. Really, what's your resolution? It can't be that bad."

Mark sighs and shakes his head. "That's it, Roger."

"What's it?" Because Mark couldn't have just kissed him. Because Roger had to have missed something important.

"Kissing you," Mark says. "That was the resolution."

"I thought it might help," Mark explains. He's tearing apart Roger's covers again. Apparently, this is easier than looking at Roger. "I mean... I figure it was just a phrase and Collins said maybe I should try acting on it or talking with you or something." Mark laughs without sounding even a little happy. "I don't know what I was thinking..."

Roger does. Roger knows exactly what Mark had been thinking. "Did it work?" He asks. It sure as hell didn't help Roger.

Mark shrugs. "Maybe."

Roger leans forward, wrapping his hand in the collar of Mark's sweater so that Mark doesn't have much of a choice but to look at him. "Maybe," Roger says. "Maybe you just need to try more."

Mark's eyes go so wide it would be funny if it weren't for the situation. It would be funny if Roger weren't a breath away from Mark, ready to push the other boy down to the bed and tear off his clothes. It would have been funny if Roger and Mark weren't on the borderline of friendship and fucking and about to ruin everything that kept Roger going from day to day. Then, yeah, Mark's shock would have been fucking hilarious.

"You wouldn't mind?" Mark asks, whispers, something. Roger's not even sure he's heard right. Months of fantasies are knocking around the inside of his head, and Roger's not sure he should trust his own senses.

"We're best friends, right. That's what best friends do." Mark looks down at the hand twisted in his shirt. "Come on. Where's the Mark Cohen who's willing to jump on tables and climb into windows?"

Where's the Mark Cohen who loves being tied up and teases. That's the Mark Cohen Roger really wants to meet.

Mark looks back up at Roger. He's smiling, his lips twitching with nerves, but at least he's smiling. "Let's try that again."

This time, Roger's ready when Mark crashes their lips together. This time he already has his hands in Mark's hair, pulling the other boy as close as they can get. Lips and teeth and tongue, this is how kissing should be. Hot and messy and out of control.

Mark's pushes Roger flat on the bed. Roger is too busy thrusting in and out of Mark's mouth, dragging their tongues together, tasting every inch he can reach to notice what Mark's hands are doing until he's suddenly pulling away.

Roger whimpers, his fist tugging at Mark's hair, trying to get him back. Mark laughs, struggling away from Roger. "Come on. We have to get these off."

Roger lets go of Mark long enough for Mark to slip his jacket and shirt off. Roger's all too glad to help Mark out of his sweater. The second it's over his head, Roger grabs his shoulder and hauls him back down.

Mark's small "Umph!" when he hits Roger's chest quickly turns into a moan. Roger thrust up against Mark's hips, rubbing his erection against his friend's jeans. Mark gets the idea, pulling back from Roger again and trying to slip out of his pants.

After a couple seconds of Mark fumbling with his zipper, Roger can't take it any more. "Let me," He says, pulling himself up to his knees. He kisses Mark again, can't stop kissing Mark ever again, as his fingers go to work on getting him out of those pants.

The second he has them pulled down past Mark's waist, he's cupping Mark, squeezing the hard, pulsing cock in his hands. Mark aches away from the kiss, a breathy cry being torn from his throat. "Roger."

Roger, please. Roger, more. Roger, faster, harder, fuck me. Roger, I need you. Mark's voice moaning his name is enough to fuel Roger's fantasies for another year at least.

He yanks the pants further down Mark's legs until the material pools at the other boy's knees. Roger slips his thigh between Mark's leg, biting down on his lip to keep from screaming when Mark digs his nails into Roger's back. Mark buries his face in the crock of Roger's neck, moving himself up and down Roger's thigh for the contact, biting down on Roger's shoulder.

Not enough. Roger needs him screaming. Roger wants Mark begging for this.

Roger tips Mark's chin back, fingers tracing over Mark's bottom lip. Not as red or fleshy as they'd been in Roger's imagination, but none of that matters now. Without opening his eyes, Mark, real Mark, licks at his lip, sucking Roger's fingers into his mouth. His tongue slides against Roger's digits, in and out and between the fingers.

It takes Roger a while to remember what he's doing. Watching his fingers sliding in and out of those lips, why hadn't that ever appeared in Roger's fantasies?

When Roger pulls them away, Mark follows, whimpering when they finally leave his mouth with a pop. And, yeah, Roger's definitely going to be thinking about that next time he's in the shower.

Right now, though, he wants Mark screaming. Roger's fingers slide down Mark's spine, leaving a trail of spit in their wake, before dipping into the curves of his ass. Mark is almost completely still as Roger's fingers circle around his entrance.

He pushes one finger up and Mark goes ridged. The filmmaker arches off of Roger, nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave welts. Roger stops, afraid that he's messed up, that Mark isn't ready for this, that Roger has managed to screw up his one chance.

It takes a while, but Mark begins to relax. He leans forward again, head resting against Roger's shoulder as he slow pushes back into Roger's finger.

"It's okay," Roger whispers, the hand on Mark's hip starts moving up and down, trying to comfort the other boy. "Just keep relaxing."

Mark bites down on Roger's shoulder, sucking at the skin. He lets go long enough to say, "I'm all right."

Roger nods and starts moving again, slower now. Mark is still nipping and sucking at his skin, but after a while he begins to move in time with Roger, thrust himself back against Roger's hand, breathing hard against Roger's shoulder.

When Roger slips the other finger in, Mark hardly whimpers. He squirms and pushes his legs further apart, but doesn't make a sound. Still moving against Roger, leaving a trail of red marks across his shoulder, the boy doesn't so much as moan when Roger curls his fingers, only bites down harder. Hard enough to make Roger groan, thrusting himself up against Mark.

The only sign that Mark is about to come is when his body tenses up. He starts bucking against Roger, unable to do anything but pant against Roger's skin as he pushes back, trying to build a faster rhythm. Roger complies, slamming his fingers up against Mark, hitting that spot until Mark is shaking around him.

When Mark comes he sighs, frame collapsing against Roger's chest.

Roger scoots back slowly to make sure Mark is okay. The boy is shimming with sweat and cum, flushed from the experiences. He looks up at Roger, eyes dazed and dark. His whole frame is trembling as his tries to even out his breathing. Legs pushed apart, leaning back on his hands to support himself.

All Mark has to do is say "Please" and Roger would come.

Instead he struggles to get back to his knees. He moves across the bed to side table, Roger watching his every move. His cock is straining against his jeans. All it will take is one whimper, one look, and Roger will be gone.

Mark takes off his glasses, setting them on top of Roger's sheet music. He opens the nightstand and starts digging through the content.

"There in the top drawer," Roger says. Mark turns his head to smile. He waves the small foil wrapper between his fingers.

"I found it." Then Mark is pressing against him, tongue forcing Roger's mouth open as straddles Roger's hips. He pulls back long enough to say, "My turn."

Yes. Please.

Roger moans when his jeans are pushed down, freeing his erection. Mark is licking at the love bites he's put on Roger's neck earlier as he slips the condom on over Roger's cock and begins to travels down his chest. Tugging at Roger's nipples with his teeth, tongue dating inside his belly button, lips pressing soft kisses down to his waist.

All Roger can do is lean against the wall, breathing hard and watching Mark.

Mark's tongue darts across the head of Roger's cock, a small, nervous lick. He looks at Roger, eyes dark, lips parted and wet. One of Roger's hands cups Mark's cheek, stroking up the side of his face until he can curl his fingers through short, blond hairs. This is enough of an answer for Mark.

He dips down again, running his tongue along the length of Roger's erection before taking him in his mouth. Roger's hand tightens in Mark's hair, his head going back as a strangled cry is torn from his throat. He forces himself to look back down at Mark, watching as the boy's head bobs up and down in his lap. Lips stretch around Roger's cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucks it down. Fuck, Roger thinks, no one should look that good like this.

Mark does. Mark with his pale skin and blonde hair and lopsided smile. Mark looks so fucking good like that, sliding his lips up and down Roger's shaft, nails digging into Roger's hips. It doesn't take long for Roger to start pumping into Mark's mouth, whimpering and moaning and pleading with Mark to go faster.

When Roger comes, he screams, hand tangled in Mark's hair and cock pressing against the back of Mark's throat.

Mark sits up, tears forming around his eyes. Roger has the sense to look embarrassed. "Sorry." He mutters, trying to push himself up off the wall.

Mark smiles. "It's fine." He glances away from Roger and towards the door. "I guess I should-"

"No!" And maybe Roger sounds a little to desperate when he says this, but that doesn't matter. "No, I mean... It's cold tonight. Maybe you can, you know, stay."

Mark doesn't look like he entirely believes Roger. "You sure? Because it's okay if I..."

Roger nods than shakes his head. "I mean..." He's not sure what he means. All he knows is that Mark shouldn't leave this room tonight. "Yeah... You should... Stay, I mean.... You should stay."

Mark's smile is worth the slight humiliation of stumbling over his words. "You sure?" He asks, giving Roger one last chance to back out. Mark can still go to his own room. They can still act like this never happened.

Roger shakes his head. He's scared of what might happen in the morning, but he's not sure he's going to be able to sleep tonight without Mark.

Mark moves up the bed, grabbing some of the covers and pulling them over him before lying down. He watches Roger, who can't do anything but stare back. Mark is there, lying on his bed, naked. Mark is under Roger's sheets, flushes and sweaty and waiting for Roger.

After a few seconds, Mark coughs to gain Roger's attention. "Oh!" Roger blushes, turning away as quickly as he can, as if Mark hadn't already noticed the staring. He tears off the condom, tossing it in the trashcan, and pulls his boxers back up before crawling under the covers along side Mark.

Mark doesn't seem shy about cuddling up to Roger, squirming in Roger's arms until he finds a possition he likes. "I always thought you'd be louder," Roger says after both boys are comfortable. Against his chest, Mark stifles a yawn.

"Sorry," he murmurs, nuzzling against Roger's skin.

"That's all right," Roger answers, all though he's pretty sure Mark is already fast asleep. Roger sighs, tightening his hold on the small boy in his arms. So Mark isn't all that vocal in bed. That could be a good thing.

 

At least it gives Roger a new goal for his New Years Resolution.


End file.
